


Milk and Black Spiders

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 20:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14386107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Natasha finds him pressed against the crates, chest heaving and eyes unfocused.She's too late.





	Milk and Black Spiders

The Joker's shrill laughter echoes throughout the empty warehouse, reverberating off of the walls and seemingly right down Natasha's spine. The smell of fetid water is strong in the air, though she can't see its source. Batman swoops in above her, heading towards the Joker's approximate direction. Good, locating and extracting Jason was her number one priority. Besides, the Bat wouldn't appreciate Black Widow dealing with one of his rogues.

Especially this one.

She picks up her pace as she weaves through the maze of crates. Determined on intercepting her target before he makes contact with the clown.  
Jason has crossed paths with the Joker many times since his death and resurrection, in Gotham it was inevitable. He usually deals with it in three ways; beating him to a pulp, occasionally treating him with total indifference or trying to kill the Joker outright.

However, bad days weren't when Jason was intent on the Joker's death. No, they were when his past trauma's resurfaced and took hold of him. If the Joker's laugh reached a certain octave, if he felt claustrophobic or was close enough to feel the heat of an explosion...he could be sent spiraling into a full-blown panic attack.

Natasha knew that he even sometimes got antsy waiting for Batman, body language closed off and drumming his fingers in a continuous rhythm against his arm. He's able to cover this particular tick when in battle, using its frenzied energy to his advantage. His mind becomes so focused on his mission, whether it be saving others or keeping himself alive, that his triggers don't always register. That all changed when the Joker was involved, she could see the sheer effort it took for him to keep in check.

Bad days where when fear and despair exhausted Jason to the point of vulnerability.

She would not risk it being a bad day.

Natasha finds him pressed against the crates, chest heaving and eyes unfocused. He has a white knuckle grip on an unfamiliar knife and his guns are missing from their holsters, a cut clean across his cheek.

She's too late then.

Natasha approaches him with deliberate footsteps, palms up she speaks softly, "Jason, it's Natasha. I need you to drop the knife and breathe for me."

He looks up, a tremor going through his frame. He's got that look in his eye, like he's far away.

"I'm—what are you—"

"Breathe," she orders, ready to disarm him if she has to.

He struggles, eyes closing in clear frustration as he inhales and exhales, this time with purpose. They stay together like this for a few minutes, Natasha on guard and at the ready. She wishes Clint were here to have her back, so she could give Jason her undivided attention. Though, she understands that it's just as important for him to be able to ground himself without her help.

(She remains on standby nonetheless.)

Deeper in the warehouse, the flurry of activity has died down, the laughter cut short. Batman has neutralized the threat then, Natasha feels something ease within her.

Metal hits concrete as the knife falls to the ground in a clatter. She draws close to him without hesitation, touching his face and guiding his gaze back to hers. "Tell me what you see."

"You," Is his strangled reply.

She can't help the smile tugging at her lips and presses him again,"Describe me."

He does, like he's reciting a mission report, but he's present in a way he wasn't moments ago.

"Are you ready to leave?"

He visibly steadies himself, before reaching for his comm and asking, "The Joker?"

It's Nightwing that answers, "Detained. Police are on route, everything okay, Hood?"

"Yeah, might have to head out. Just gotta' find my guns." 

His outward appearance and tone is calm, with only traces of tension lingering in his eyes. Still Nightwing must pick up on something because he doesn't ask how Jason became separated from his weapons in the first place.

Or maybe big brother understands his precious 'Little Wing' more than he's given credit for.

"Ah, I think I see them now," They hear him start to move, only a slight hitch in his breath betrays his exertion. "Better grab them before the cops do, I'll drop them at your place later."

Natasha surveys the area once more as Jason finishes up with Nightwing and turns to her.

She can tell he's embarrassed, he hates being exposed, thinks of it as weakness. Not that she blames him, Natasha herself has had similar thoughts in the past and has even used such moments as leverage against others. She wishes he could accept her comfort and support without shame. As there have been times when her own darkness has almost consumed her and Jason has lit the way home.

Recovery is a constant battle for the both of them and together they mend each others hurts. It doesn't stop days like this, but it helps.

He sighs, inclining his head in a vague direction, "Let's get out of here."

"Of course, любимый."

One day, Natasha is going to kill that clown.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title inspired by [Milk & Black Spiders by Foals](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L325JJ9MFxQ)  
> **любимый/lyubimyi = beloved  
> I do not speak Russian, so if this is wrong please let me know!


End file.
